Poisoned Arrows and Poisoned Dreams
by So-Sings-Nightingales
Summary: The moment seems so peaceful- the green grass beneath his knees is soft, the breeze is cool, carrying the sent of honeysuckle, his beloved bow and an arrow sit comfortably within his gloved hands- but not all's as it seems. When Orcs, Wargs, and mysterious beings cross the Company's path, will every member make it out alive? Or is one of them doomed to remain in a living nightmare?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The book, The Hobbit, belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, and by no means do I own the movie. I do not own these characters and I am not making a profit from this story. I am just taking these characters out for a walk in the park and I promise to return them in one piece.**

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Kíli delicately ran his fingers along the perfectly crafted arrow shaft, softly stroking the yellow feathers at the end. Gently picking up his wooden bow, Kíli admired the smooth dark wood and the carefully carved runes he himself had placed with diligent care many years ago. The young Dwarf smiled fondly as his gloved fingers brushed against a small dent near the grip. He had been so devastated when his brand new bow received that blemish during a disastrous hunting trip many years ago.

A soft breeze brought Kíli back to the present, its nimble fingers stirring the archer's dark hair, causing a few loose strands to stick to the salty liquid on his forehead. Kíli shivered involuntarily, closing his eyes briefly to will the tremors to abate. A slight grimace graced his handsome features as his eyes opened and sluggishly roamed the plains before him, his vision wavering in and out of focus. It was a pleasant respite to be able to kneel in the soft, green grass with the scent of honeysuckle on the wind. His eyes stopped on a lone figure, dancing magnificently with a blade in each hand, cutting down every foe that came his way. Despite the splendid effort Kíli's elder brother was giving, the light haired Dwarf was too distracted with the immediate Orcs within slashing distance to see the Warg prowling ever closer behind him.

With a sudden burst of adrenaline Kíli gripped his bow and an arrow, drawing himself up to his full height. Obtaining the proper stance, his left arm became parallel to the ground as his right pulled the string taunt to his check, ignoring the way the black arrow embedded below his right collarbone shifted in an agonizing way. Suddenly nothing else mattered as his mind cleared and focused on the task at hand. The arrow slipped straight and true from seasoned fingers, entering the Warg's left eye and embedded in the foul creatures brain, killing it.

Fíli eliminated his most pressing attacker before whipping around at the sound of the dying Warg. Recognizing the arrow instantly as his kin's, Fíli traced its trajectory and locked sky blue eyes with his little brother's depth-less brown eyes some ways off.

Kíli attempted a smile for his brother, and somehow managed through the pain, which was making itself known with every little movement. The sounds of the battle were all but a dull hum to Kíli as he watched with disconnected interest, fighting slowly towards his position.

Fíli's panicked voice snapped his attention back to the present as he felt a blade enter his side. Kíli numbly looked down at the crude Orc blade sticking out of his body. His eyes met those of his attacker, and with a malicious smile on its Orcish face, cruelly yanked the blade free from Kíli's body.

The pain hit Kíli with the full force of an Oliphant as his body lurched backwards and he fell through open air.

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**Author's Note: This was originally going to be a BoFA vingette (because we all know how _that_ ends), but a seed of an idea is forming to expand this into a multi-chapter story taking place sometime before that _dreaded_ battle. I would love to hear any ideas anyone might have! Should I leave it "as is"? Expand it? Is it so totally awful I should give up on it? Please review! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm so sorry for not posting sooner! The semester just began and you can imagine how hectic things are! But, please, enjoy! **

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It was dark. Not the kind of dark that occurs when the sun sets deep behind the horizon, but an all-consuming dark that fills every void, every crevice, every thought, and seeps deep into your soul. Kíli tried to open his eyes, tried to find some ounce of light, but to no avail. The darkness was everywhere, threatening to devour Kíli alive, to snuff out the young Dwarf's internal flame.

The darkness was about to completely take over when he found it, a shimmering thread of light to hold onto. It was a touch on his forearm, a slight pressure, almost imperceptible, but enough for the archer to grasp onto.

Soon the feeling turned into a gleaming beam of hope, growing in intensity until it shone brighter than the sun itself at the peak of its height. It was almost too much for Kíli to handle. Again, he tried to open his eyes, tried to reach out for something, _anything_, with which to shield the light.

Suddenly, a soothing touch on his forehead shattered the light into a million pieces, plunging the Dwarf back into darkness, but a darkness not as deep or dangerous as the first. It was a dreaming darkness, one where he could open his eyes…

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Kíli stood in a large open field surrounded by ancient trees and not too distant mountains. The grass was wet with early morning dew and there was a chill in the air, one that promised of a beautiful spring day. Kíli knew exactly where he was; he was back in the Blue Mountains, at the training grounds to be exact. He would know this field anywhere for he had spent most of his life practicing in this field with his brother.

A sudden chill came over Kíli and he could no longer feel the cool mountain air or the sun upon his face. Frowning, the young Dwarf wrapped his arms around himself. What was he doing here anyway? Distant voices caught Kíli's attention, and as two figures entered the clearing, Kíli's breath caught in his throat.

For before Kíli stood his Uncle Thorin and a younger version of himself.

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Kíli squeezed his eyes shut, opening them only after a few deep breaths, yet the figures were still walking across the clearing. Curiosity getting the best of him, Kíli walked, no, _glided_, the short distance to the figures. As Kíli approached he could see his Uncle lacing a leather cuff around his younger self's left arm then slipping a soft leather glove onto his right hand.

_"What are these for, Uncle?"_

_ "So you do not injure yourself, little one."_

Kíli smiled widely, recognizing this scene as being the first time he shot a bow. He watched as his younger self rocked back and forth from toes to heels as his Uncle explained the parts of the bow and the theory behind it. Thorin then proceeded to demonstrate, easily placing an arrow dead center on the target ten meters away. Kíli could not help but laugh at the expression of awe and amazement on his younger self's face. He had thought that his Uncle had just completed the most arduous task, when in fact, landing an arrow at that distance for a seasoned warrior was child's play.

The young Dwarf continued to watch with a slight smile as his younger self held the bow with reverence, modeling himself as he had just seen his Uncle. Thorin in turn gently made slight adjustments to the young lad's stance just before letting loose the arrow to land in the blue arc. Thorin let out one of his rare roaring laughs before handing his nephew another arrow.

Arrow after arrow Kíli placed them within the red, blue, and sometimes black or white rings. After a dozen arrows a voice hailed Thorin from the far side of the field. Kíli frowned, for he distinctly remembered having been practicing for nearly half an hour before Dwalin had shown up… with Fíli… where was Fíli?

The confused Dwarf focused back on the scene at hand. Thorin motioned for his youngest nephew to notch his arrow and shoot. The young lad did, but Thorin split his attention to greet Dwalin and failed to fix the budding archer's form.

Kíli flinched a split second before a surprised yelp caught the older Dwarves' attentions. The young Dwarf's form had slipped and the bow string had snapped his arm, just above the protection of the armguard, leaving an instant red welt in its wake—which later on turned a lovely shade of purple.

After Thorin thoroughly inspected the "wound" he deemed that Kíli had practiced enough for his first day.

_"Go gather your arrows and we will check the traps before heading home."_ Kíli heard Thorin suggest while unlacing his younger self's armguard.

_"At least he hit the center once."_ Dwalin muttered.

Confused, Thorin and younger Kíli looked to the target and sure enough, that last shot had landed within the yellow—not dead center, but awfully close.

It was Dwalin's turn to be confused as Thorin and his youngest nephew burst out laughing.

Kíli shifted his attention from the three Dwarves to the target, and his blood ran cold. The target was no longer a slab of wood, but in its place was his own brother with an arrow sticking out of his chest.

The archer looked from his brother, to the laughing Dwarves, then back to Fíli. That's not what had happened that day! Fíli was supposed to be back with the group, laughing and slapping his younger self on the back! Could not those three…apparitions or whatever they were… see Fíli's still form or his glassy eyes? How could they laugh at such a disturbing image?

A bitter wind blew from the west and the sun was blocked by clouds. Kíli shivered and closed his eyes, but the image of his brother impaled with one of _his_ arrows was branded on the inside of his eye lids. The young Dwarf opened his eyes but was only met with darkness. Still hearing the joyful laughter, he tried to call out to his Uncle, to Dwalin, to _anyone_. The only response the distressed archer received was the ground falling out from below him while the laughter continued. As Kíli fell through oblivion, he could have sworn he heard Orc's snickering in the distance.

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**Author's Note: Don't forget to review- I'd love to hear from everybody! (I apologize for any mistakes... I didn't take as long editing it as I usually do because I wanted to get it posted ASAP.) Chapter 3 will be coming soon...hopefully it won't take too terribly long to post! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here we go, chapter 3! I just wanted to give a big "thank you" to those who review- every review is very much appreciated! I also wanted to give a gigantic shout-out to ****_Oblivian03_**** who has given me inspiration to expand this story way past what I had originally planed. **

**On with the story!**

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"What does 'let's hope Gandalf shows up soon' supposed to mean, Óin?" Fíli anxiously questioned as he sat beside this younger brother, gently dabbing a damp cloth across the injured Dwarf's clammy forehead.

The old healer sighed. He had been speaking with Thorin at the opposite end of the cave but, unfortunately, what Óin thought was whispering was actually a normal speaking volume. "What I mean lad, is that I have done everything that I can. It's up to Kíli now, and it would be nice, well, what I mean is…"

"It would be nice if Gandalf were here if Kíli takes a turn for the worse?" Fíli finished with panic shining in his blue eyes.

Óin diverted his gaze, unable to look the young Dwarf in the eyes and confirm the statement.

Thorin glared at Óin's chastised form before striding over to his nephews, slowly sitting in front of Fíli. Taking the still hand of his youngest nephew Thorin met Fíli's eyes.

"Is Kíli going to die?" the despondent Dwarf asked in an impossibly small voice.

"I have learned throughout my life, Fíli, that you cannot predict the future of others, as much as you may want to. One moment you could be standing next to the most powerful Dwarf alive, and in the next, they could be dead. I have seen too many of our kin fall in battle, or succumb soon after, to predict who lives and who dies." Thorin paused, blinking the mist out of his eyes. "What I do know is that your brother would not leave us without a fight. He always was a feisty one."

Fíli let out a half laugh- half sob. "That he is."

Thorin put his free hand on the nape of Fíli's neck, bringing their foreheads together. "Do not give up hope, for as long as Kíli draws breath he has a chance."

Fíli could only nod in response as two tears silently caressed his cheeks.

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Dwalin sighed before quickly swiping at his eyes and focusing back on the dagger and sharpening stone in his lap. It pained Dwalin deeply to see his King and friend and the young lad so upset. Heck, it was utterly heartbreaking to see Kíli, so young and full of life, just lying there, gradually weakening from his wounds.

Dwalin sighed deeply once more, suddenly realizing someone was watching him. Putting on his best scowl he glanced to his left where the majority of the company sat around the small fire, tending to each other's wounds—thankfully there was no one else as seriously injured as Kíli. Sure enough, there sat Bofur, floppy hat sitting askew on top of his bandaged head—thanks to an Orc arrow which grazed his skull—and a goofy grin plastered on his weary face.

"Would you look at that, he _does _have a heart!"

Dwalin growled deep in his throat. If the constantly, overly cheerful, Dwarf did not already have a head wound Dwalin would have made sure he did.

Bofur opened his mouth with a mischievous glint in his eyes but froze mid-breath, in fact everyone did. For, oh so faintly, the snickering of Orcs could be heard on the wind.

Dwalin locked eyes with Thorin, silently aiding strength for his distraught life-long friend. Although on the outside Thorin appeared calm and controlled, Dwalin could tell from the look deep in his eyes that the exiled King was far from it.

Here the company sat, taking refuge in a small cave with Kíli critically injured and a number of the company with minor injuries, with Orcs on their tail. It would be risky moving Kíli, for Óin had made it very clear that Kíli needed to be kept warm and still in order to have a fighting chance at full recovery. But now… that Orc cry meant one thing—they found the Dwarves' trail. If the company stayed in the cave, well, they all would be beyond critical condition within an hour.

Thorin knew this, for Dwalin saw it all flash in his eyes in a heartbeat. Dwalin knew Thorin's decision before his friend verbalized it and nodded his support.

"We move now. Quickly!"

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**Author's Note: Don't forget to review! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, wow, here's a long chapter for you! Once again thank you to those who review and I'd like to give a humongous shout-out to ****_Oblivian03 _****who has been a huge support and source of inspiration for this story. THANK YOU! **

**Enjoy! **

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The Company of Dwarves and Hobbit moved as fast as they could, but unfortunately, their pace was forced to no more than a fast walk due to Bofur's head injury and Kíli's dead weight. Just before evacuating the cave, Óin had been able to direct the quick construction of a stretcher, using branches from near-by trees and donated bedrolls.

Thorin and Dwalin each carried an end of the stretcher with Fíli walking close beside. Bofur leaned heavily on his cousin, Bifur, his face an odd shade of green. The company traveled along a dried river bed right below where the battle had taken place not three hours ago. They were not in the most ideal location with a sheer ten-meter rock wall to the right and a deep, foreboding forest to their left. While following the uneven path the Dwarves took comfort in the fact that it had taken them all nearly an hour and several yards of rope to scale the wall—not including the time it had taken to retrieve Kíli from the ledge he had fallen onto during the battle. As far as the Dwarves could tell there was no other way down.

A howl dead ahead froze the hassled group. As one unit they turned around, only to hear a responding howl from their rear. Panic and distraught eyes turned towards their leader. Without missing a beat Thorin spun to face the yawning forest. "Our only chance is to lose them in the woods. Let's move!"

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Kíli was floating. From the smell of it he was in a dank forest, for wet leaves, rotting bark, and moist mud assaulted his nose. A howl in the distance had Kíli snapping his eyes open. He was indeed in a forest, but by no means did it appear to be as dark or dank as he had thought—or as it had smelled for that matter.

Kíli was lying on a bed of soft, fresh grass in a small clearing, looking up at the tops of the tress and blue sky beyond. It was cold, but not uncomfortably so. Actually, Kíli was quite comfortable just lying there. His eyes began to drift shut again. It was just…so…peaceful…

A shadow passed in front of Kíli, causing him to startle to an upright position, reaching for the dagger on his belt. Instead of looking into the face of an Orc or Goblin, he was greeted with an all too familiar smirk.

"Well, are you just going to lay there, brother, or are you coming hunting? We are not being paid to track this wolf for nothing!"

Kíli grumbled at Fíli, rolling to his knees in preparation to break camp. He halted in his movements, pausing to take a good look at his surroundings.

Fíli halted his movements also to stare questioningly at his younger brother. "Something wrong, Kíli?"

"Where are we, where is everybody? And what did you mean by 'being paid'? What's going on, Fíli?"

Confusion graced the elder's face before annoyance took its place. "Now is not the time to joke, Kíli! We have a job to do, and we were _very_ luck that Man hired us to track this wolf that has been terrorizing his livestock. Do you not know what it would mean to mother if we brought home not only just a wolf's pelt and meat, but a purse full of gold coins? We would be set for the winter!"

It was Kíli's turn to be confused, but like his brother, it was short lived. Realization dawned on Kíli, there _was_ nobody else, just Kíli and his brother on a hunt. Not just any hunt, that disastrous hunting trip which would result in Fíli with an infected leg and Kíli with a broken wrist and dented bow. However, the question was, what were they _doing_ here? And how did they _get_ here? Kíli opened his mouth to verbalize his thoughts when a howl broke him off.

"Come on sleepy head! That's our cue, let's get moving!"

Still having more questions than answers, Kíli threw all his gear unceremoniously into his pack and hurried after Fíli, who was carefully tracking the prized wolf.

As Kíli followed slightly behind his brother he glanced around the forest with keen eyes. It was a young forest, not especially dense but plenty bright. Suddenly right before his eyes the trees began to shift, to crowd around each other, blocking out the sun. The heavy scent of mold assaulted his senses once again as the forest became denser and denser, boxing Kíli in on all sides. A pair of yellow eyes peered at him through the gloom, staring directly into Kíli's soul.

Panic began to take hold in Kíli's chest. "Fíli!" he cried out. Once the name left his lips the forest snapped back to the young, bright woods he had woken up in.

"What is it, Kíli?" Fíli questioned in concern, appearing instantly by his younger brother's side. "Are you feeling alright? You have been acting strange."

"I… it… it was nothing." He put on a sheepish grin, not fooling his brother for an instant from the look Kíli was currently receiving.

Fíli's eyes drifted over Kíli's shoulder and a look of panic flashed in his bright blue eyes.

"What is it Fíli?" Kíli whispered, dread flowing through his veins.

"There is a wolf behind you, and it appears that it is not alone."

Kíli closed his eyes in disbelief. He knew exactly what would happen next, if memory served him correctly. Yes they were surrounded by a pack of wolves, and Fíli was about to give him a boost into a tree in hopes that Kíli would be able to pick off the wolves with his bow and arrows. But instead of a gentle boost, Fíli would send him soring into the air as a wolf would suddenly clamp down on his leg, causing Kíli to fly up and over the branch only to crash down face first onto a bed of gnarled roots. He would land painfully on his left arm, which clasped his beloved bow, snapping the bone in his wrist with an audible crack. In the process his bow would be forever dented from being crushed under his full body weight. Their savior would come in the form an emaciated Warg, who would attack the pack of wolves in a fit of hunger. Why it would leave the two injured Dwarves alone would be a mystery.

Kíli opened his eyes only to find himself _alone_ and surrounded by wolves. "Fíli?" he called desperately. "Fíli!"

"Kíli!" came an agonized scream.

Kíli turned to the sound of the voice, only to see the lifeless form of his brother in the jowls of a huge white Warg.

"Fíli!" he screamed in disbelief. This was not what was supposed to happen; they survived the encounter, albeit a little worse for wear, but the Warg had _saved_ them!

White hot agony erupted in Kíli's side and, before he knew what was going on, was thrown to the ground with a wolf clamped onto his side. A second wolf approached, stopping mere inches from his face, snarling its hot, rotten smelling breath directly in his face.

Kíli squeezed his eyes shut once again as he spiraled into nothingness, a whimper escaping his lips. Suddenly, he was caught from his downward fall in a warm, tight embrace, his face pressed into rough yet familiar smelling fabric. Another whimper escaped as a fresh wave of pain swept over his battered body.

A soft voice whispered in his ear, its gentle pleadings lulling him back into the awaiting arms of darkness.

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**Author's Note: Don't forget to leave a review! I'd love to hear your thoughts :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**I am ****_so_**** sorry for the long wait! This little thing called "school" got in the way...**

**Thank you so much for the reviews, favorites, and followers! They make my day :)**

**A special THANK YOU to ****_Oblivian03_**** who has been a huge support and source of inspiration to this story. **

**Hope you enjoy Chapter 5!**

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Consciousness came to Kíli as suddenly as a lightning bolt. The archer's first realization was that he was being pressed into someone's chest, Thorin's he presumed, head cradled into the crook of said person's neck like a slumbering child. It was not just his head being cradled, but a hand was around his mouth— why would Thorin hold him like that?

The answer came to Kíli quite suddenly as it hit him—the pain that is. A moan resounded in his throat, but the hand halted the sound, for the most part. The pain was everywhere; no part of Kíli's body was without it. His body twitched involuntarily, trying to rid itself of the discomfort. Kíli tried to shift to find any small amount of respite but it only resulted in increasing the levels. If it wasn't for the hand over Kíli's mouth he would have cried out. A small, muffled squeak escaped the hand, causing someone to lean close to his ear, hot breath brushing against his cheek. Kíli could tell someone was talking, but his pain-muddled mind could not make out the words.

The darkness threatened to reclaim him, but Kíli needed some answers. He focused on the voice, trying to decipher words out of the mumbo-jumbo through the pain. Although the agony relentlessly assaulted his battered body Kíli was soon able to hear the words Thorin was whispering, "…I know it hurts lad but you need to be quiet… it is alright to go back to sleep… do not fight it…" Kíli _needed _questions answered and the injured was _not_ about to let the darkness win again. So Kíli fought it, allowing his body to spasm and twitch, focusing instead on the uneven breathing of the Company around him and the rough fabric against his face. Then he heard it. The Company seemed to collectively hold their breaths as the growl of a Warg sounded not too far from their position.

_What was going on? _

Kíli tried to open his eyes, but the effort threatened to release a moan of its own, so he focused on what he could hear, feeling too much pain to share in the blanket of fear that settled around him.

* * *

The Company stayed frozen in place, as silent as a soft spring breeze, save for the frantic beating of 14 hearts, long after the Orcs and Wargs had passed. Only after Nori had snuck out of their hiding spot in the marsh and thoroughly checked the area did the rest of the Dwarves and Hobbit emerge from the sticky bog.

The Company had quite literally stumbled upon the quagmire not long after entering the forest. Deciding it was their only hope of hiding their tracks and scent, Thorin had hoisted his unconscious nephew into his arms as they traversed through thigh-deep swamp until they came across the overhang, almost completely concealed by cattails, which created a perfect hiding spot from the fast approaching enemy. Now that said foe had long passed by, the Company clambered to dry ground, relieved to be released from the cold, foul-smelling muck that now clung to their clothing. Bofur fell to the ground in dry heaves, having lost the contents of his stomach long before. Bombur knelt beside his ailing brother, gently rubbing soothing circles on his back.

Meanwhile, a bedroll appeared on the ground allowing Thorin to relinquish his precious burden, gently resting the injured Dwarf's head in his lap. Kíli emitted a groan as he was laid flat, hand clenching Thorin's tunic in a death grip.

"Kíli? Are you awake?" questioned Fíli, vocalizing everyone's shock to see the injured Dwarf conscious, as he fell to his knees beside his brother.

_"Fíli? But he… he…"_ images of his brother with an arrow in his chest and in a Warg's jaws flashed before Kíli's mind's eye.

"Come on Kíli, if you are awake open your eyes, please brother?" Fíli almost begged.

The semi-conscious Dwarf felt his brother's rough hand clasp his own free one. If Fíli's desperate pleas were not enough to push away the ever constant darkness, the physical contact was. With no small effort, Kíli opened his eyes, a gasp of pain escaping his lips at the effort, clenching the fabric and hand within his grasps as if they were his lifeline. "Fíli?" he ground out as wave after wave of pain racked his weakened body as if to welcome him into full consciousness.

"I am here, brother. You had us all so worried!"

"Move aside, laddie, and let me have a look at our patient." Óin interjected, prodding Fíli to move over. Fíli complied, refusing to relinquish his hold on his brother's hand. "Now, tell me where you hurt." Óin leaned close to the injured Dwarf in an attempt to possibly hear a reply.

"Ask me… where… it does… not hurt." he breathed out.

Thorin chuckled as Óin's brow creased in confusion, the deaf healer having not heard the reply.

Kíli attempted a smile before speaking again in a louder voice. "My shoulder… side… back…"

The old healer nodded along as if he knew what Kíli's answer would be. "I am not surprised. Let me get you something for the pain than I need to redress your wounds."

Kíli nodded tersely, fighting a new wave of pain.

Thorin pried the clenched hand from his tunic and clasped it within his own, squeezing it reassuringly. Running a calloused hand through his youngest nephew's hair comfortingly, he glanced around at the rest of the company. Bofur and Bombur sat side by side where Bofur had collapsed with Bifur standing attentively nearby. Glóin rummaged through his brother's pack gathering bandages and various "ointments" as Óin prepared a draught for Kíli. Dwalin stood slightly behind and off to the side of the heirs to the throne, leaning on one of his axes as he carefully scanned the surrounding trees with a scowl on his face. Dori sat in front of Bilbo, gently redressing a minor wound the Hobbit had sustained on his leg while Nori and Ori stood nearby, the youngest of the three brothers clenching his sling shot with white-knuckled hands. Balin slowly finished walking the perimeter of their "camp" and angled his path towards his king.

Only once the wise Dwarf was close enough to talk in a low voice did Balin make to speak. "I do not like it here, Thorin. Something lurks amongst the trees—I can feel it in my bones."

"As do I, Balin, but there is not much that we can do at the moment." As if on cue Kíli let out a pitiful cry. Thorin traced his thumb along the ailing Dwarf's forehead. "Keep a careful watch for threats and we will move as soon as Óin has finished."

Balin nodded in understanding and moved off to circle the area once again as Óin approached his patient, shooing Fíli aside once more. "Here you go, laddie, drink this up and you will be feeling better in no time."

With Thorin supporting Kíli's head Óin held the cup to Kíli's lips as the injured Dwarf drank the vile liquid.

Kíli tried to relax as he felt the draught quickly begin to take effect. His brow furrowed. "Fíli?"

"Yes Kíli?"

"Are... you alright?"

"Am _I_ alright? Kíli, you are the one injured!"

Óin laid a skilled hand on the young Dwarf's forehead. "He is still running a high fever." He muttered mostly to himself.

Kíli locked eyes with his brother's concerned blue eyes. "But… but the arrow, the… Warg!"

"Kíli, calm down, I am fine! You made sure that Warg did not get me. As for the arrow, _you_ got one in the shoulder!"

Kíli could only stare at his older brother as Óin tugged at his tunic revealing two stained bandages. "What is the last thing you remember, lad?" the deaf healer asked.

The injured archer closed his eyes and breathed deeply, wincing as Óin touched a tender spot. Although the draught was working miracles, it did not take _all_ the pain away. "I… I do not know. Everything is so… fuzzy."

"Well that can be attributed to the poison."

Brown eyes flew open. "Poison?!"

"What was that you said?" Óin paused in his ministrations.

"I have been poisoned?!" Kíli squeaked loudly.

"Yes. The arrow below your collarbone was dipped in poison, one which I have never encountered before. But, not to worry, I think we cleaned the wound and treated it in time."

"You… _think_?"

"Calm down, lad. It is a good sign that you are now awake." Thorin interjected.

Kíli tried to relax, but the recent news unnerved him. Turning his eyes to his Uncle, the archer questioned, "What happened?"

"Do you remember the ambush?"

"Vaguely, yes."

"An Orc archer targeted you, right before Dwalin's axes targeted his neck." This elicited a small smile from Kíli and a grunt from the mentioned Dwarf. "Being the stubborn Dwarf that you are you took down a Warg as an Orc foot soldier stabbed you in the side, pushing you off the edge of a cliff."

Kíli could only stare incredulously.

"Then," Fíli picked up where Thorin left off, "after we eliminated the rest of the Orcs and Wargs we realized you only fell onto a ledge part way down the cliff and not all the way to the bottom to your death." Although Fíli smiled at his own attempt at humor Kíli could see the fear still lingering in his older brother's eyes.

"There!" Óin announced, oblivious to the conversation that had transpired. As he loosely replaced Kíli's tunic and jacket, Balin rushed over.

"Thorin! Something approaches!"

"Orcs?"

"No, not Orcs. We do not know _what_ comes, but _they_ are coming."

No sooner had the words left the experienced Dwarf's mouth Kíli let out a cry of pure agony, grasping his head and curling into himself, the pain from his wounds forgotten.

"What…" Fíli began but fell unconscious beside his brother.

Kíli pried open his eyes, panting through the torture, and watched in horror as one by one each member of the Company was surrounded by a shimmering ghost-like form before collapsing onto the ground, unmoving. As the archer's eyes rolled into the back of his head and the glorious darkness took control once again, Kíli could feel the indescribable sensation of his soul being ripped from his ailing body.

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**Author's Note: Ohhhhhh noooooo! What's happening to the poor Dwarves now?! **

**Don't forget to leave a review- reviews keep me motivated! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A big thank you to all who have reviewed and who are sticking with this story. You are all awesome! (Do you know who else is awesome? ****_Oblivian03_**** for keeping me inspired, focused, and motivated. Without her this story would have been abandoned long ago.)**

**Now... on with the story! Enjoy! **

* * *

Kíli woke up with a start, but it was unlike the previous times he had regained consciousness. For starters, there was no pain, no sensations at all actually. The young archer wiggled his fingers and toes experimentally, then gradually his arms and legs, but something was not right. He was moving, but he was not. It was a strange feeling whatever was happening. Deciding he had nothing to lose Kíli gradually sat up. It was then that the young Dwarf realized what was wrong, he was not _moving_—he was _gliding_.

The young archer glanced around at his surroundings. It was dark, like a dungeon. No, it _was_ a dungeon. _What was going on?_ It seemed like Kíli had more and more questions than answers recently. Something caught Kíli's eye behind him so he turned to get a better view. What the Dwarf saw stole his breath away, if he had breath to steal that is. For lying on the ground directly behind him was himself. Actually, he was sitting on himself… or in…

Kíli closed his eyes, trying to settle the panic rising in his chest. What was the last thing he could remember? Being in a clearing in a darnk forest... Óin tending wounds he had sustained during some battle with those pesky Orcs… Thorin and Fíli nearby… then pain, immense pain, like nothing else he had ever felt before. A pain that went much deeper than any wound an Orc weapon could inflict.

Kíli slowly let out a shaky breath before opening wide brown eyes. Chancing a glance at his hands Kíli could only stare in disbelief as his hands _shimmered_, almost fazing in and out of focus right before his eyes. Kíli looked up, away from the strange sight, and gazed at the bleak wall in front of him. A glint sparkled in chocolate eyes as an idea came to the young archer. In one quick motion he laid back on the cold stone floor, perfectly melding into his motionless body. He still felt, well… detached, but what did he have to lose? As quickly as a hurricane wind, Kíli jumped to his feet, spinning to face the back wall. Kíli knew what he would see before he even turned around. Sure enough, lying on the stone floor was his inert body.

* * *

Sitting in a corner dejectedly the young Dwarf could do nothing but stare at the only other presence in the cell. His body, or his _shell_ as Kíli preferred to call it, had not moved since he had woken up. He shell was deathly pale with a fine sheen of moisture on his brow. He looked… dead, but the steady rise and fall of his shell's chest proved that there was still life. His shell had been stripped of all weapons and gear and Kíli could see white bandages peeking out from underneath his tunic.

But where was Fíli? And Thorin? And the rest of the Company for that matter? Surely they would not have left him alone willingly? Driven by worry Kíli stood and approached the lone door, giving his motionless self a wide berth—its presence unnerving the young Dwarf. Peering out of the single barred window in the door, the hallway beyond seemed empty and was deathly silent. On a whim, the young Dwarf tried to push open the door, seeing that there was no handle on the inside. Unsurprisingly, the door was locked and would not budge. Crossing his arms in frustration, the young archer leaned against the door. Only he was met with thin air and not a solid wall. Before Kíli could even blink he found himself horizontally on the floor.

Utterly confused, Kíli gained his footing and gaped incredulously at the _outside _of his cell. _But what… how…_ then he saw it—he had literally slipped through the space between the door and the wall. A loud clang! at the end of the hall caught Kíli's attention. There soon appeared a non-resisting Dwalin being dragged between two strange creatures, who deposited him in the same cell as Kíli's shell.

What disturbed the young archer most was not the fact that Dwalin was _not_ resisting, but that the three beings had walked right _through_ him.

* * *

One by one the unknown creatures had dragged each Dwarf and sole Hobbit into the same cell as Kíli's shell. Each member of the Company had been stripped of everything except the clothing on their backs. There was not much room in the small cell with fourteen bodies crowded in, but no one seemed to mind much for everyone was just glad to be alive. Kíli's shell's head lay on Fíli's lap, the latter idly braiding unruly locks. Bofur lay curled in a corner looking absolutely miserable while the rest of the Company talked in low tones, of what Kíli did not know or really cared to know. He watched the scene through the barred window in the door, not having the courage to join the Company. He had previously tried to communicate with them, but to no avail. They just seemed oblivious to his presence. The distraught Dwarf had tried to free his companions, but the door would not budge. He needed to find the key.

Miserably, Kíli looked down the corridor. If the Company had any hope of escape, he was it. He had to find a way to free them.

* * *

**Author's Note****: Will Kíli be able to free the Company? What has happened to poor Kíli anyhow? And who are these strange creatures? Stay tuned to find out! xD**

**Don't forget to leave a review! I know it wasn't the best chapter... it was a pain to write for whatever reason (and it took me long enough to post, sorry!). Hopefully chapter 7 will be better and up sooner! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**THANK YOU to all who review, follow, and favorite this story! And a mighty thanks to ****_Oblivian03_**** for all your help! (I know, I know, I probably sound like a broken record, but I cannot possible express my gratitude enough! You all are amazing!) **

**Onward with the story, enjoy! **

* * *

Dwalin grunted as he stretched out his stiff legs, muttering an apology as he accidentally nudged Nori with his booted foot. Dwalin was still feeling dizzy and sluggish, all of them were— a side effect after being knocked unconscious Óin had theorized. The seasoned warrior proceeded to curse their predicament and lack of leg room in Khuzdûl, using as many colorful words as possible. Beside him, Balin regarded his brother with raised eyebrows, but no one else seemed to have heard or cared.

Dwalin glanced to his right at Kíli's body, head pillowed on his older brother's lap with Thorin nearby—not that he could be far away had he wanted to. The usually gruff Dwarf's gaze softened as his eyes drifted to Kíli's face, cheeks flushed with fever. Dwalin had been the first one to discover Kíli, actually the ill Dwarf was the first of the Company Dwalin has seen since their capture, and the old Dwarf had never been so frightened in his long life.

* * *

A few hours after the Dwarves had been captured Dwalin regained consciousness—disoriented, incredibly dizzy, and not to mention the all-consuming weakness. Big, strong Dwalin could not even get himself into a sitting position. How long the seasoned warrior lay in that tiny dark cell fighting nausea, he could not even begin to guess. It could have been minutes or days and Dwalin would not have known the difference. All Dwalin knew was that after an undeterminable amount of time the door to his cell opened with a blood curdling squeak to review two strange beings.

At first glance, Dwalin would have guessed Elves based on their tall, lean bodies and long, straight hair. However, upon closer examination, these beings, unlike Elves, wore simple tunics which hung ill-fitting and unflattering on their emaciated bodies. Their blond hair was grossly overgrown and greasy beyond belief. But their eyes were what took Dwalin aback. They were dull, void of any life, and unseeing. Yes they were looking at Dwalin, but the Dwarf got the impression that they were looking straight through him. Their movements were jerky, yet exactly in sync with the other, as if they were performing a choreographed routine.

As the two strange beings reached for Dwalin with dirtied hands and overgrown fingernails, the Dwarf found the strength to reach for the dagger on his belt, only to find nothing there. Dwalin cursed his weakened and ailing body for only _just_ realizing he had been stripped of his weapons and gear, leaving him solely in his traveling clothes. Having expelled all the energy his debilitated body would allow, Dwalin could only growl as the Elf-like creatures dragged him from the cell, only to be deposited down the hall in a much larger one.

Before the seasoned warrior could even begin to comprehend the reasons behind his move Dwalin's eyes landed on a body—Kíli's body. To say Dwalin was shocked would be an understatement. Still not possessing the strength, or the stomach, to get to his feet Dwalin was forced to drag himself slowly but surely to the young archer's side. Dwalin feared the worst, for the lad was so pale and so still. Gently, the older Dwarf lowered his head onto Kíli's chest, relief flooding Dwalin's veins as he heard a heartbeat and felt the steady rise and fall of the young lad's chest. Dwalin did not attempt to awaken the injured Dwarf for he had seen too many wounded in battles succumb to an unwakeable sleep such as this—which they would either awaken from after their bodies had begun to heal or would fall into the eternal sleep.

Rare emotions constricted the seasoned warrior's throat as he pressed his forehead to that of the clammy, motionless one. "Oh, Kíli, what has happened to you laddie?"

Not much time had passed when the cell door opened and poor Bofur was thrown in, landing in an ungraceful, moaning heap. The two Dwarves acknowledged each other's presence before Bofur passed out, but not before he could give off a goofy grin to the always scowling Dwalin. Assessing the new arrival from his position by Kíli, Dwalin deemed Bofur no worse for wear, or at least no worse from the last time he had seen the overly cheerful Dwarf in the forest. Dwalin focused back on Kíli. He was afraid to touch the young archer let alone move him. From a cursory glance, there was no new blood on the already soiled tunic, so there was nothing Dwalin _could_ do. He was no healer, but he did know how to rudimentarily treat a battle wound. So Dwalin sat and waited.

Soon after Bofur's arrival the other Dwarves followed. One by one the same two beings hefted each Dwarf into the quickly-crowding cell. Dwalin could only marvel at the strength and stamina of the seemingly malnourished beings. As Thorin and Fíli arrived Dwalin reluctantly relinquished his position beside the ailing Dwarf, repositioning himself only a few feet away. Óin, being the last Dwarf to arrive, jumped into "healer mode", assessing everyone's condition, Kíli being his first point of focus. He had confirmed Dwalin's suspicion; Kíli had slipped into a deep state of sleep but was not further injured. The beings had seemed to be strangely careful with the young archer. Why? Why indeed…

* * *

"Brother, are you alright?" Dwalin blinked back to the present, tearing his gaze from the young Dwarf to regard his brother.

"Why would I not be?" he half-heartily grumbled back.

Balin just nodded with a knowing look, as if Dwalin's reply confirmed his suspicions. After a few moments of silence passed between the two brothers Balin made to speak again, changing the subject. "Did you get a look at the beings that attacked us?"

Dwalin grunted as he shifted positions again. "I did not see who attacked us in the clearing but the ones who brought us to this cell looked a lot like Elves."

"Aye, they did. But there was something strange about them, something that I cannot put my finger on."

A murmur from the corner of the small room caught everyone's attention. "It was like they were possessed."

"No, Ori, not possessed." Thorin's brows furrowed in thought before he continued. "Their eyes were vacant, like they were…"

"Soulless." Fíli finished, talking for the first time since their capture, eyes never leaving his brother.

"Soulless." Dwalin parroted, eyes landing on Kíli before widening ever so slightly as they took in the unmoving form.

* * *

**Author's Note****: Love it? Hate it? (Hate me yet?) ;) PLEASE leave a review! I love to hear your thoughts, and it really helps with oncoming chapters when I get feedback! **


	8. Chapter 8

**I am so sorry for updating so late! :(**

**Once again, thank you to everyone who is sticking with this story! (And thanks to ****_Oblivian03 _****for helping me figure out some tricky details.) **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Kíli roamed through the darkened maze of corridors that made up the dungeon. It was strange, the young Dwarf mused, that there were no guards, no one in sight in fact. Where were their captors? Were they not worried about an escape? Kíli stopped in his tracks, having reached a fork in the path. Looking left then right, a humorless smile tugged at the corners of his lips. They did not have to worry about escapes, anyone trying to get out would just get lost in the winding passageways as Kíli currently found himself. Deciding to go right with a shrug, Kíli took a step but paused mid-stride. Turning around slowly, the young archer looked down the other corridor. He could not explain it, but the Dwarf _felt_ that he should go that way. It was like he was being _drawn_ down that hall. Without a second thought, Kíli turned around and headed to where he was being summoned.

* * *

As Kíli traversed the winding halls he let the strange feeling guide him. It was almost as if he was being beckoned, but where? The young archer could not even begin to guess. Another troubled thought crossed the Dwarf's mind, how was he ever going to find his way back to the Company? Kíli quickly pushed that thought aside, he would have to deal with it later.

Kíli paused in his tracks—what was he doing? He was walking into an unknown situation, alone, unarmed, and… unafraid? Either Kíli had changed drastically, for it had been drilled into his mind from a young age not to walk into an unknown situation unarmed, or something—or _someone_— was messing with his mind. Whatever the reason someone had better offer some answers.

Continuing around yet another corner Kíli could see a stairwell winding upwards, presumably heading out of the dungeon. "Well, at least I am making some sort of progress." the young archer muttered under his breath.

Before he could reach the stone stairs something in the cell to his left caught the archer's eye. Moving closer to the barred window Kíli could barely contain his shock as he saw the strange beings that had captured the Company. Only they were _locked in a cell_! The beings were just sitting there, unmoving, staring into space—they did not try to communicate to each other or move about.

What in all of Middle Earth was going on?

Kíli clutched his head in despair and slid down the wall to the floor. This was too much for Kíli to even begin to comprehend.

* * *

How long Kíli sat there willing it all away, wishing to wake up from this horrid nightmare, the young archer did not know, but he soon had the distinct feeling that he was being watched. Lifting his head slowly the Dwarf visibly startled as his eyes landed on a lone figure standing directly in front of him.

Seeing the distress of the young Dwarf the figure quickly took a few steps back, hands raised in a non-threatening manner. "I apologize for startling you." came a sweetly musical voice.

"You… you can see me?" questioned the flabbergasted Dwarf, scrambling to his feet

A sad smile tugged at peach lips. "Yes." There was a pause as the two studied each other.

The figure before Kíli was definitely an Elf, he concluded, although the she-Elf stood only a head taller than the Dwarf—much too short for an Elf, but what did Kíli know? He had never encountered one before. However it was her pointed ears and lean body that gave her race away. The Elf's sandy-colored hair was pulled back into a simple braid lying delicately over her left shoulder, tied with a dull-green ribbon. Her clothing was simple, more practical than elegant, consisting of a dark brown tunic over a pure white blouse paired with green leggings and tall leather boots. With a cloak to cover her hair the Elf could easily blend into nature, Kíli mused.

Kíli snapped from his thoughts as the she-Elf broke the silence. "What is your name, young one?" Kíli noted a deep sadness that sparkled in her emerald eyes as if those simple words caused the deepest pain.

Standing a little taller the young archer remembered his manners. "Kíli, at your service." he concluded with a bow.

"Kíli." she breathed as if that one word was the most precious thing in the whole world. "Kíli, it is a wonderful name, never forget it."

"I… will not." he replied, unsure of what else to say.

The sad smile returned to the fair creature's features.

"And, who might you be?"

There was a slight pause. "It has been so long I do not remember anymore."

"So long since _what_, if you do not mind my asking."

She gestured to the cell containing the dirtied creatures. "Since the separation. Your name is the first thing you lose—your identity. Then sometime later your language, then all the memories of before the attack until all you know is pain, suffering, and a deep desperation."

Kíli could only stare at the fair she-Elf, not fully comprehending her words.

Smiling sympathetically the Elf took Kíli by the arm. "Come, I will explain."

Before they could take two steps a blinding pain shot through Kíli, causing a gasp to escape his lips as he fell to his knees, his descent aided by the surprisingly strong arms of the Elf.

"It is alright, you will be okay, this will pass." the she-Elf soothed, rubbing gentle circles on his back in a motherly fashion. "Just breath through it, this pain will pass."

True to her words the pain eventually diminished. Catching his breath Kíli asked, "What happened?"

Instead of answering his question the Elf asked one of her own. "How long ago were you shot?"

"Maybe a day or two ago, but how did you know I was shot?"

"That is how you got here; you were shot with a poisoned arrow. As for what happened, you are still connected with your body, only barely. Someone must be tending to your wounds. However, with time, that connection will be lost."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

Taking Kíli's arm once again she guided them both to their feet. "Come. I will explain."

* * *

**Author's Note:**** Hmmmm... can this she-Elf be trusted? Kili seems to think so...**

**Please, pretty please, do review! I love to hear your thoughts, they are a great encouragement! (And how else am I supposed to grow as a writer without feedback?) :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**I am ****_so_**** very sorry for the long wait!**

**Thanks to all who favorite, follow, and review! You are all the best! And a special thanks to ****_Oblivian03_**** for giving me some ideas to make this chapter possible! **

**Now... on with the story! Enjoy! **

* * *

"What do you mean he _should_ be awake? So why is he not?"

"Fíli!" Thorin scolded, rubbing at his temple with calloused fingertips in attempts to dispel the growing headache. "Let Óin finish."

Óin completed his ministrations of re-dressing Kíli's wounds, having been keeping a close eye for any changes in the young Dwarf's condition, before continuing his diagnosis. "There are no sign of infections; in fact, he is healing nicely, considering our circumstances. There does seem to be some irritation, but that is nothing to worry about at the moment and is actually expected. However Kíli has not had the chance to rest properly with us being on the run, hence the fever." Óin paused briefly as he replaced Kíli's tunic. "Now, with that being said, Kíli could have very well slipped into a healing sleep, which is not uncommon among the wounded."

"You had said that before, yet you still do not sound very confident."

"Fíli," Thorin let his hand drop as he breathed out his eldest nephew's name again. "Óin is doing his best with the conditions we are in. I know you are worried…"

"Worried?" Fíli cut in. "My little brother is unconscious for no definite reason! And we are stuck in a dark, cold cell in the middle of who-knows-where and no one seems to be trying to find a way out! And what are _you_ doing, Uncle? Nothing!"

"We are all worried, lad." Balin interjected, trying to diffuse the situation before it _became_ a situation. They were all tired, sore, and in very low spirits, so it would not take much to set off tempers. "We are of no use to your brother if we are half dead from exhaustion and slow from pain. The best way we can help Kíli and have a chance at escape is for us to rest. Once we are all well rested and regain some of our strength back, _then_ we can make a move."

Balin let out a sigh of relief as Fíli closed his eyes and visibly deflated. "You are right, Master Balin. I am sorry. I was wrong to lash out. It is just…"

Thorin placed a gentle hand on his eldest nephew's shoulder and took a breath to speak some words of comfort when an indignant cry from Nori broke him off.

"Can you not sit still you big oaf? I do not think that my back can take any more of your fidgeting!" Unbeknownst to the Company, Dwalin's constant, restless shifting caused his booted foot to impact Nori's kidney's too many times for the thief to count—and it was getting old.

"And what do you know of sitting still? You are just a wandering crook! If you are so uncomfortable just move over a bit." Dwalin growled back.

Nori bristled at the harsh words. "Where do you expect me to go? On my brother's lap?"

It was true—Ori lay to Nori's right against the wall with his head in Dori's lap, asleep for the time being. Hunched facing his brothers, Nori's back was partly to Óin and the line of Durin, who spanned the length of the adjacent wall. Unfortunately, this also left most of Nori's back facing Dwalin's feet. Bilbo sat beside Dori, head bobbing up and down as sleep tried to claim him as the older Dwarf hummed a lullaby softly under his breath. Bofur lay curled in a corner clutching at his head, moans escaping his lips ever so often. Bombur stationed himself beside his ailing brother, nearly taking up the whole wall space with his enormous bulk. Bombur's eyes very rarely left the rocking form of Bofur. Bifur sat ramrod straight beside the cell door, staring off into space, muttering gibberish words at random intervals. What the handicapped Dwarf was looking at and talking about, now one knew, and to be frank, no one cared to know. With Balin and Dwalin occupying the wall on the other side of the door, Glóin sat between outstretched legs in the center of the crowded room, picking at the dirt under his fingernails.

Dwalin opened his mouth to say a retort he would most definitely regret later, but a murmur from Bilbo interrupted his thoughts.

"If there is a thief among us, why then did I even bother coming along to be a part of this mess? I could be sitting in front of an open fire with a cup of tea…"

"My brother is no thief! He just has sticky fingers is all." Dori hissed, abandoning the lullaby while trying to not wake the slumbering Dwarf in his lap.

Bilbo's brows furrowed in confusion. "But…"

"So _now_ you decide to defend me dear brother! Why did you not defend me when…"

"Just admit it, Dori, you have a criminal for a brother." Glóin cut in somewhat loudly.

"I dare say…"

"Could you _please_ keep it down?" came a meek voice. "My brother's head is hurting something awful and your raised voices are not helping."

"The lad is right. Why do you all not try and catch some sleep?" Óin finalized with a smile. Besides, who could refuse a healer's instructions?

There were mumbles of approval as everyone shifted to try and get as comfortable as possible.

Then it happened.

"I swear, Dwalin, if you kick me one more time…"

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!" bellowed the offending Dwarf.

Ori jumped wide awake at the sudden outburst as Bilbo's eyes widened at the looks of annoyance and irritation all about him. A whimper from Bofur went unnoticed by all save his brother as he tried to disappear into the floor and beg beautiful unconsciousness to take him. Cries of protests rang out across the tiny expanse as the stress, worry, and exhaustion left the Dwarves in the form of bickering. Not even Thorin's authoritative yells for silence made a difference—it just added to the rising racket.

* * *

Thoroughly distracted by the verbal sparring at hand, everyone present failed to notice the slight movement from the young, presumably unresponsive Dwarf. The formally limp right hand slowly snaked up his wounded body to clutch at the torn fabric of his own tunic right above his heart. A lone tear slithered down the pale face to land upon the leg which his head rested. Unseen, the seemingly unconscious Dwarf let out a heavy sigh—one could possibly say a sigh of frustration and anguish.

* * *

**Author's Note****: Well, there you have it! Let me know how you like this chapter- I greatly enjoy hearing your thoughts! :)**

**Don't worry, next chapter will include lots of Kili (and some explanations! Woohoo!).**


	10. Chapter 10

**I am ****_so so so sorry_**** for the extremely long wait! School has somewhat calmed down for now and I'll try to get the next chapters up quicker.**

**Thank you to all those who review, favorite, and follow! It means the world to see people are still enjoying this story :) (And a huge thanks to ****_Oblivian03_**** for your continuous support!) **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Kíli looked around at the scene before him. They sat in a storage room, not far from the cell containing the Elves' decrepit bodies. The young archer sat perched on top of an empty barrel, the short she-Elf to his left atop a stack of hay. However they were not alone, for about half dozen other Elves either sat or meandered about the small room. They acknowledged Kíli with their eyes but made no move of greetings or interest.

A tense silence filled the room, not even the sound of shuffling feet reached Kíli's sharp ears.

"Please do not take offense by their actions. It has been such a long time since someone new has arrived. And besides, they cannot talk anymore."

The Dwarf looked to the being beside him. She continued to stare straight ahead, seemingly deep in thought, but there was something else, a darkness within her green eyes. "Tell me."

Blinking back the mist gathering in fair eyes, the she-Elf slowly turned to face the young Dwarf. Seeing the sincerity in the chocolate depths she took in a shuddering breath before answering. "Before you, I was the last one to arrive. Only a few of those here could still communicate, but they could offer little comfort, for they had not had contact with the 'outside world' for centuries." Pausing to compose herself, Kíli waited patiently. "I was just shy of my 100th year and it was such a beautiful Fall morning. Being the silly, naïve child that I was, I _begged_ my parents to accompany me on a picnic. There had been known bands of Orc's wandering about, but my people had all but eliminated them."

"But not all of them." Kíli stated quietly, the pieces of the puzzle beginning to fall into place.

The Elf nodded, swallowing thickly. "We did not even have a fighting chance. They came upon us so suddenly. My parents were killed instantly, run through with blades and left to bleed and rot on the grass. And me? I took an arrow to the leg and only after I had witnessed my parents' deaths did the filth knock me unconscious." A few Elves momentarily glanced over at the two talking beings as the she-Elf dabbed at her eyes, but they seemed unfazed. "I awoke a few times during the long journey but they were not pleasant, between being surrounded by Orcs and those dreams… I never knew what reality was and what was not. I soon found myself here in this living nightmare, a servant to The Orc, who has us do his bidding." She quickly added, looking away as if she was ashamed of the last statement.

"Servant to The Orc, what do you mean by that? How is that possible, being separated from your bodies?"

"We are bound to The Orc by the poisoned arrows he crafted. Although he cannot control us directly he can through our bodies—makes _them_ do his will. He can control us here by threatening to kill our bodies, which in turn would kill us. The poison from the arrow could still kill our bodies, but every so often The Orc has to administer an antidote to our bodies, to keep the poison at bay. But, do not worry," she added as panic flashed in Kíli's eyes, "you have not been infected long enough to be in need of another dose of the short-term antidote."

The young archer relaxed a bit as the she-Elf continued, averting her gaze again. "We are partly responsible for you and your friends' presence here. When The Orc found out that his foot soldiers were hunting Dwarves, pushing them farther into the forest towards his dominion, he sent us and our bodies out to intercept you."

Brown eyes widened with realization. "It was you, the ghosts that I saw… the ones that attacked the Company!"

"Yes, it was us. We touched your friend's mind's to render them unconscious and then our bodies carried you here. I am sorry."

"It was not your fault. You had no choice." Kíli stated softly. Looking around the room again his brows furrowed. "Why is it that there are so many Elves yet I am the only Dwarf?"

"Orcs are virtually mutilated Elves, so in that regard, we are similar. That is why Elves were The Orc's first victim, besides those of his own race. Yes, his first experiments were on his fellow Orcs. But now, he wants to expand this experimental poison to the other races, so he can control all the races of Middle-Earth. You, my dear Kíli, are the first one outside of the race of Elves to be poisoned."

"Oh how wonderful. But, there is a way to return to our bodies… right?"

"There is a potion, but if we take it, it would mean certain death unless we take a draught to counteract a poison within the potion. The Orc was very clever in his invention."

"If there is a means, then why has not anyone here used it?"

"There are those who had tried, but none have succeeded, for the potion and draught is heavily guarded so that we in this form cannot even obtain it."

Dejected, Kíli shifted his gaze to the other Elves seeing them as if seeing them for the first time, understanding their behavior towards him. They had no more hope of returning to what they once were, and what if they did? Their lives would never be the same. The Dwarf could not even begin to imagine what they had been forced to go through, what _he_ might be forced to do.

Suddenly, Kíli cocked his head, as if listening intently to something in the distance. Rising to his feet the archer began to leave the room.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to get back to the Company, something is not right." Kíli left the room and began down the corridor with the she-Elf following close behind, allowing his feet to take him where his mind did not know the way.

* * *

Angry voices could be heard, growing in volume as Kíli and the she- Elf approached their destination.

_"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!"_ came Dwalin's roar, causing Kíli to flinch involuntarily. The young Dwarf had picked up most of the arguments, for the sound easily carried through the empty halls. The Company was stressed; tempers were flaring out of pure exhaustion. Kíli understood that, but he still could not help but feel that he was a contributing part to the raised tension. _His_ body lay wounded, and the Dwarves had little means of helping _him_.

"I am so sorry! Please, just stop!" Kíli moaned, leaning his head against the cell door, after observing the scene for a few seconds through the window in the door.

"This is not your fault, Kíli. Do not blame yourself." The she-Elf laid a comforting hand on Kíli's shoulder.

"But their worry over me is causing them to fight! How can they rest and plan an escape when they keep arguing!" With that, the young Dwarf shook off her hand and slipped through the crack, standing amidst the quarreling Dwarves.

Taking in the scene, Kíli resolutely stepped in front of Dwalin and Nori. "Stop it you two! It was only an accident, you know that Nori! Mister Dwalin, Nori is weary, just watch where your feet go!" But his words went unheard.

Taking another desperate step forward he faced his red-faced Uncle. "Thorin, make them listen!" Yet again the archer's words were lost on the feuding Dwarf.

"Fíli, I will be alright, please stop worrying and get some rest brother!" Again, his own brother could not hear Kíli's pleads.

Silent tears began to track down the unnoticed Dwarf's cheeks. They could not hear him! They did not even know what had happened to him, let alone that he might be able to help in the Company's escape! In that moment, Kíli had never felt so utterly alone; it felt as if his heart were breaking into a million pieces. Clutching his tunic in a fist, the frustrated and anguished Dwarf sank to his knees, not caring that he was kneeling right on top of Dwalin. Comforting arms encircled the young Dwarf's shaking frame and he willingly sunk into the warm embrace.

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**Author's Note****: Well, there you have it! Any and all mistakes are my own... I hope it wasn't too confusing and I kept all my "facts" straight. Don't forget to leave a review- questions, comments, and/or suggestions are welcome :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Well would you look at that... a semi-quick update! (Hope you're happy ****_Oblivian03_****, 'cause I did this for you) ;D**

**A huge THANK YOU to all who review, favorite, and follow! You are much appreciated! :)**

**Now... enjoy! **

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"No."

"But it could work!"

"It would be suicide. I will not allow you to forfeit your life for a hopeless cause."

"It is not hopeless and you know it."

The she-Elf sighed, crossing her arms and turning her back to the stubborn Dwarf. "You do not understand these matters."

"I think I do. I think I understand perfectly. You are _afraid_!"

"Yes we are afraid!" she yelled, turning abruptly to face the startled Dwarf again. "Why do you think we have not tried it before? The others and I had already discussed it long before you were probably even born! If we returned to our bodies now what future would we have? Most would die immediately of guilt, others of a broken heart. Those of us who survived would not be welcomed anywhere because of the monstrosities we have committed. We would be forced to wander this world for eternity, too ashamed to sail yet not grieved enough to die. Does that sound like a fate you would willingly want to face?" With tears freely falling down smooth skin the she-Elf turned her back once more and fled the room.

After Kíli's breakdown while observing the Company, the two somber beings had retreated back to the storage closet. Now, the young Dwarf could only stare in disbelief at the retreating back of the distressed she-Elf. How could he make her understand? They could not stay like this—_he_ could not stay like this! A hand on Kíli's shoulder caused the archer to turn about, coming face to face with a brown-haired Elf, in fact he was the only brown-haired Elf Kíli had seen. The Elf's hazel eyes shown with indecipherable emotions and he opened his mouth to speak, only to close it immediately. Squeezing the Dwarf's shoulder instead the brown-haired Elf made a hasty departure in the direction of the she-Elf. Thoroughly confused, Kíli situated himself on top of the barrel he had previously occupied. The young Dwarf had a plan to form… alone.

* * *

Kíli found himself traversing the corridors yet again. Something the she-Elf had said kept going through the archer's head: _"We touched your friend's mind's to render them unconscious…"_ Could that mean that Kíli could somehow have a chance to communicate with the Company? With his _brother_? It was a long shot, but the young Dwarf was ready to try anything.

_I wish Fíli were here… he would know what to do._

Kíli quickly shook his head. He would not wish this predicament upon any member of the Company, let alone his brother. No, Kíli was alone in this matter and he had to free the Company and return to his body… all… alone. The Dwarf expected no help from the Elves. _Why_ did he even think they would help him in the first place? Elves have not been known to aid Dwarves without a good reason anyway.

_Was that not what Uncle always taught?_ _That Dwarves could never find help with Elves?_

Kíli paused outside of the Company's cell, his musings temporarily forgotten. It was quiet now with only a few snores reaching his ears. He hesitated, not really wanting to face his friends and kin again, and alone. It was so… _depressing_.

_You have to do this_.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly the young Dwarf steeled himself to rejoin the Company, but a voice stopped him from entering the cell.

"I am sorry for shouting at you, I was out of line."

Kíli turned to the voice with a smile. "There is nothing to be sorry for, for it was I who should not have pressured you without realizing the consequences of what I suggested."

The she-Elf smiled appreciatively. "I have discussed your idea with the others…"

"Discussed with the others? I thought that they could not communicate any longer?" Kíli cut in.

Patiently, the she-Elf explained, "It is true that those who have been here the longest cannot speak anymore, but we have developed a rudimentary form of communication through gestures and facial expressions." She smiled fondly before adding, "Granted we cannot hold long 'conversations' but we can get our thoughts across." The young Dwarf nodded in understanding before she continued her previous thoughts. "The others have agreed to aid you and your friends in escaping. However, you are on your own in stealing the antidote that will return you to your body. No one is willing to risk the torment that would follow if they aided you."

Kíli nodded solemnly once again. "I can understand and accept that." Brown eyes sought the ground, slightly disappointed. _At least the Company has a chance at freedom_.

A soft hand on a stubbly chin tilted the young Dwarf's face until chocolate eyes met emerald. "You are not completely alone in your quest to return to the world, for myself and one other—the Elf with dark hair—will help. But I must warn you young one, if we succeed in returning to our bodies, we will seek death, for it would be more kind to us than living."

The archer's only response was a grateful smile as hope flared in his chest and emotions constricted his throat.

* * *

Kíli stepped over outstretched legs and slumbering bodies, still unwilling to step _on_ anybody despite the fact that they would never detect the archer's presence.

"Why have you returned here?" asked the she-Elf, standing on Bifur's foot.

"Something you said gave me an idea." was Kíli's reply as he crouched in front of his brother, ignoring the motionless body cradled in Fíli's lap.

Confused, the she-Elf pressed on. "What did I say?"

Standing, Kíli faced the fair being. "You said you 'touched their minds'. Does that mean that I can touch my brother's mind and tell him about… _this_?" the young Dwarf concluded gesturing vaguely to his body and himself.

"It is possible, but you must remember, you may not be able to do the same things we can, because you are Dwarf and we are Elves. The poison could have affected our abilities differently based on our race. You are the first Dwarf to experiences this after all, so this is new to all of us."

Kíli sighed. "What do I do?"

Walking over to where Kíli waited, they both knelt down in front of Fíli. "Place your hand on his head and clear your mind. Just focus on your brother's energy."

The young Dwarf began to reach out before halting his movements. "How will I know if it is working?"

"You will know."

With determination, Kíli placed his hand on Fíli's head. The archer took a deep breath and closed his eyes, clearing his mind completely. A few moments passed before the Dwarf opened one eye to peer at the she-Elf. "Nothing is happening."

She removed his hand before patting his knee. "I have an idea." Leading the young Dwarf to the other side of the cell they both knelt in front of the tightly curled-up form of Bofur.

"Why Bofur?"

"Because Bofur has a head injury, you might be able to reach his mind in his weakened state."

Giving the she-Elf a doubtful look Kíli placed his hand on Bofur's head, and relaxed. Focusing on the Dwarf beneath his hand a warm sensation spread across the young Dwarf's body, starting with the hand on Bofur's head and quickly down to his feet. Kíli almost felt electrified. A smile graced his face as he touched Bofur's mind.

"Whoa."

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**Author's Note****: There you have it! Hope you liked it. Please let me know. Please review. :)**


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